Vault 136
by MysteryViewerS
Summary: Samantha has everything she wants in Vault 136. a warm bed, hot food, cold nuka-cola. But with the grand opening of the vault introducing a certain outsider into her life, she may start to question that. (First fallout fic, be gentle. Rated T for now, Rated M later).
1. Chapter 1

Life in a vault wasn't AWFUL. At least not in her opinion. She had a loving family, food on the table, enough books and movies to keep her entertained for a good while, and good friends.  
Everyone got along in her vault. Sort of. There were disputes.  
It was inevitable. Sometimes, people just didn't get along.

But that was alright, because all everyone ever did was talk trash behind each other's backs when it came down to it. As people will do. It's a little much to ask everyone to like everyone, or even get along. Asking them to be decently civil with each other was hard enough as it is. To ask, or even demand, they NOT talk bad about the other vault dwellers would be … nearly impossible.

Thankfully, the Vault armory was a well hidden secret. Only the overseer, and the head vault guards knew where the armory was. And a lot of people were OK with that. Not knowing where the vault armory was was a nice, it kept people from getting **ideas** about how to handle their anger.  
In fact, their vault, vault 136, was always pretty peaceful and to keep things fresh, every 15 years they opened the vault to invite people in.  
It was a special day.

Everyone in the vault always dressed their best for that day, to put on the best impression they could for the new vault inhabitants. Unfortunately, The Overseer, as of recently, decided only a select few should go up to greet the new vault inhabitants. This happened, in part, because of an... incident... that happened 15 years prior. They lost a lot of people, and almost lost the vault, due to most of vault security having to wade through a crowd of terrified people to get to the raiders.  
But Vault 136 had a ton of heavy weapons that easily destroyed and pushed back the would-be invaders.

For a few years after that, There was talk of the vault closing its doors forever. And when the 15 years were drawing to a close, the Overseer decided to put it to a vote. To keep the vault open or not.

Apparently, it was pretty evenly split. But there was JUST enough people wanting to keep the door OPEN. Those that opposed to vault reopening had their input weighed in fairly and thus the lottery came around.

Three lucky people got to help. A year in advance.  
From the radio signals to tallying up who was leaving and even answering the responses to their Open vault messaging.  
Samantha had been chosen.  
First time in the 18 years of her life.  
Technically she was 17, and at 17 you were officially added to the list of names to draw from. She didn't think that, not too long after her 17th birthday, she'd be granted one of the highest honors in the vault.  
And so began the preparations. She, along with Tanya, and elderly black woman, and George, a middle aged man that was one of their engineers, spent the rest of that year prepping for the inevitable. The vault door opening.

Now Samantha had never been a social butterfly. She was an awkward, clumsy person. Always had been. Preferred books to people and studying to gossiping. It wasn't like she was entirely DIFFERENT from the kids. She wasn't. There were dozens of kids like her that fit nice and snug into their little niche area. Samantha sort of... never had one. She found it actually kind of easy to drift from one clique to another.  
It wasn't like it was hard to learn the difference between "jocks" and "nerds".

But Samantha was an orphan... More or less, the vault people raised her for the most part.  
She lost her dad at 3 to one of the raiders and, at 10, her mother became ill with an inoperable brain tumor. The older people of the vault took it upon themselves to help raise her. But as the old saying goes, kids are cruel.

It's not that they DIDN'T give her sympathy. They did... in short bursts. Between them was the crude remarks about her mother being an alcoholic and her dad being a cheating bastard. Her mother did drink. She could recall quite well how fast her mother could drink down a bottle of scotch and whiskey within an hour. But it wasn't until later that she found out that it was mixed with med-x to numb the excruciating pain the headaches were giving her. As for her dad being a cheater... she never really did find out. Her father was a private man. He gave his affections in bits and pieces. But there was never a shadow of a doubt in her mind about how much he loved her and her mother.

But that also could've been the naïve mind of a child trying to cover up the angry glares between to frustrated, disappointed adults. She certainly didn't know. And most of her just didn't care to find out.

Since Samantha's initial announcement as one of the chosen three, she had suddenly become the most popular girl in their class. People actually TALKED to her. Or attempted to. Her social skills, or lack thereof, hindered her ability to hold a conversation. Except with Connie. Her perpetually confused, tomboy of a best friend. If there were two words Samantha could pick to describe Connie, it would be short and fierce. Connie stood at around 5'2 and the word "no" did not exist to her. Nor did the words impossible, rational, and common sense. She was... different, to say the least. She had short, straight, brown hair and bright grey eyes. Connie was often off in her own little world so her being confused about anything and everything was NOT uncommon. Connie took the announcement about her best friend being chosen as well as anyone would. She was ecstatic for her. She was giddy and squealing and giggling and hugging the rest of the day. Although she did later admit to hating how everyone was NOW deciding to be all buddy, buddy with her. It didn't bother Samantha any so she didn't pay it any mind.

Today was the day. The day the vault door opened. She'd spent the entire day prepping herself. She found the nicest dress she could find (which happened to be a light blue dress that belonged to her mother), washed herself twice, making sure to do her long, thick black hair carefully so it didn't come out looking ratty or greasy, and even put on some makeup. Connie had been with her through the morning, helping her pick out the clothes and do her makeup.

"Oh boy! I cannot BELIEVE I am friends with one of the lottery winners." Connie began excitedly, her short, plump frame all but vibrating with the sheer amount of glee she was putting off.  
Samantha looked away from the mirror and laughed gently. "Easy does it."  
Connie scoffed. "Damn girl. You've got such a nice build though. That dress perfectly accents those nice curves of yours. I mean damn... I'm surprised you're still single with breasts as big as yours."  
Oh yeah... Connie had NO filter whatsoever. She said WHATEVER was on her mind. No beating around the bush at all.  
If she didn't like you, she'd flat out tell you.  
IF she DID like you, she'd also flat out tell you.  
On top of her habit of either complimenting, or attacking verbally, the "Assets" of a person. Connie was pretty …. ambiguously taken with the community. Her whole family was like that though, so people learn to take it in stride. Still didn't make it any less weird to hear your best friend tell you about how much they like your breasts in a completely casual tone.

Samantha came from a long line of bigger women. Hell, her mother was even bigger than she was. She wasn't the only larger female in the vault. That much was certain. But it didn't change the fact that Connie has sort of singled her out in terms of complimenting her on her looks. She couldn't complain. She kinda liked it to be honest.  
Connie was a sweetheart.

The door to her apartment slid open and in walked Connie's dad.  
Ironically enough, Connie's dad was one of the biggest and tallest men in the vault, standing at 6'8 and weighing 280 lbs. He was a gargantuan mountain of a man but he was a total sweetheart so it was cool. He was an absolute teddy bear, in Connie's own words.  
He had thick, brown curly hair and bright, excited grey eyes.  
"Hey kiddo. We're having a little family meeting before the big event. Y'mind coming back home?"  
Connie got up off the toilet. "Sure dad," she gave Samantha a casual wave. "See ya later, friend."  
Samantha waved good bye. "Bye Connie. See you after the event."  
"you bet'cha." she gave her a wink and a grin before heading out of the apartment with her dad.  
Samantha turned back to the mirror, inspecting her makeup. She didn't put much on, mainly because she didn't know how. She was never one for wearing make up. But Connie liked to so she gave her the ins and outs of putting on foundation and blush.  
It was a little bizarre. Connie being as tomboyish as she was being so incredibly talented in doing make up. Connie was full of surprises. Even after knowing her most of her life and coming to consider their family to be hers, Connie always had something new to show her.

There came a banging on her door, causing her to jump back and release a shortened yelp of surprise before whipping her head around to see who it was.  
The door slid open. It was Tanya and George.  
Tanya was wearing a lovely, crème colored gown with her long, silvery-white hair pulled back into a tight bun. She looked so wonderful. George had his short, thinning, orange hair greased back and out of his bright hazel eyes. He was wearing a black, pinstripe suit with a rather lovely looking powder blue tie. It looked a little odd with the rest of his ensemble, but it fit well with George's kind of outlandish personality.  
"You look absolutely wonderful, honey." Tanya began, her voice taking on a dreamy, airy tone.  
Samantha lost the fight against the blush and the awkward smile. "Thank you Tanya. You both look really great."  
George's grin nearly took up half his face. "You two lovely ladies ready?"  
Tanya chuckled gently, hooking arms with the slightly taller male. "Yes, of course. Do try and keep up, Samantha."  
The two backed out of the doorway and headed off down the hall. Samantha made sure to keep up with the two.  
They chattered excitedly among themselves as they headed towards the main entrance.  
People were lining the halls to cheer them on. Although there was still a bit of anxiety coursing through her veins, Samantha felt relieved and energized from the constant cheering of her vault mates.

The King Overseer was there to meet them at the bottom of the stairs. He was wearing his usual clean, charcoal black 3-piece suit. A unique item that was apparently a very fashionable article of clothing back before the war. He had a stern look, but he failed to fight back the excited grin.  
"You three ready? You are going to set the standard for our vaults. You are going to be the prime example these newcomers will compare everyone else too. Are you three prepared?"  
"We've been ready for the better part of a year." George replied confidently.  
The King Overseer smiled brightly. "That's what I like to hear! Now up you three go. Watch your step."  
The three said their goodbyes to their King Overseer and headed up the stairs.

It didn't really come as a shock, but almost every part inch of the main entrance was teeming with heavily armed guards, wearing thick, black, foreboding armor.  
One of the guards mumbled something to another and they nodded.  
"We're opening the door!" they stated loudly.  
Samantha wasn't sure if it was for the people downstairs or outside the vault. But she was almost positive that if it were meant for the people outside, they most certainly didn't hear them.

Another guard walked over to a panel of buttons and levers and messed around with it for a little bit, then pulled the big lever in the middle of the panel. The machinery hummed and whirred to life. With a loud groan, the vault door slid back and rolled to the side, releasing a low, irritating scraping noise all the while.  
Samantha's breathe caught in her throat as thick, humid, borderline suffocating air blasted its way into the vault.  
Oh holy shit that was a LOT of people.


	2. Chapter 2

The bright smiling faces soon vanished at the sight of the heavily armed, looming guards, dressed in all black. A few took a step back, whether out of fear or shock, she didn't know.

Samantha took a step forward, fearing the new potential inhabitants might leave. "Hey, don't worry about them," she started off, smiling her warmest, gentlest smile, "They're just here to protect us. I'm Samantha Coleman. The two behind me Tanya Mayhew and George Devereaux. We're here to welcome you all to Vault 136."

The outsiders seemed relieved at her words and soon they began filing in in a relatively orderly fashion.

A few decided that they weren't really the Vault dwelling type and thus left. A sad thing really, but Samantha made sure they didn't leave without taking some spare food and water with them. All of them took her generous offerings with a smile. She took a peek outside the vault more than a couple times to see the outside world. And to see if any stragglers came around of course. But mostly to get the breathtaking view of the heavily forested area just outside her vault. Her eyes drank in the view, its not everyday she got to see the world outside outside the pictures in her science textbook.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and yanked her back, turning her around in the process.  
If looking at the guards wasn't scary enough, staring into the glowing red "Eyes" of a jet black helmet certainly was.  
She stepped back, releasing a startled gasp.

The figure, clad in all black and gray outfit that reminded her of the old western rangers from those movies she was forced to sit through (where he got a jet black duster was beyond her, but it did look pretty cool), held up his gloved hands in a sign of surrender. "Easy does it, teddy bear girl." the voice was deep and rough, the words coated in a thick accent she didn't even recall ever knowing.  
Teddy bear girl? The only one that called her that was Misha, the man she met over the radio a year earlier. She mentioned once or twice that she really liked Teddy bears and he just started calling her teddy bear girl.  
Wait...  
oh...  
shit.  
her cheeks went bright red, her eyes widening. "A-are you Misha?"  
"The one and only."  
"i... I wasn't... wow."  
"What? Underwhelmed? Not what you were expecting?"  
he sounded aggressive, particularly at the last part.  
She shook her head. "No, not at all. I didn't expect you to show up. A lot of people sign up and don't show, or stay." she smiled gently, "i'm glad you decided to show."  
He scoffed. "Why would I pass up the chance to meet you AND live in a vault?"  
She tilted her head to one side, raising a curious brow. "Were you that excited to meet me?"  
"Yes. You're the nicest person i've met thus far in my wasteland wandering. I'd be stupid not to at least try and find this place."  
Samantha would be lying through her teeth if she said she wasn't excited to hear his stories of the outside world. She was, there was probably a billion scary and fascinating tales he could regale her with. Better then sitting through all the same movies and reading the same books again.  
"I hope you didn't have too much trouble finding us." Samantha quickly added, tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear.

He shook his head. "Not at all." he paused a moment. "OH! I have something for you." he shrugged off his heavy looking bag and set it down, bending over to rummage around through the contents, he straightened up. "Oh hey! I found a plasma grenade." he added merrily, "i forgot I had that. Nice."  
her brow furrowed, perplexed and slightly amused about how happy he sounded that he had found a grenade.  
"HAH! Found it!" He lifted his head, peering at her, "I hope you like it." he straightened up and handed her a teddy bear. It was a slightly faded, green plaid fabric with patches of reddish fur as well as a brown jacket (of sorts) and similarly brown hat nestled comfortably between its rounded ears. Shiny, albeit chipped, warm brown eye beads stared at her with a stitched on smile.

Her eyes lit up like a box full of lit fireworks, the grin took up nearly half of her face but she tried to hide it behind the teddy bear.  
"So you like it then?" He questioned, sounding vaguely amused.  
She lowered the teddy bear, hugging the plush toy close to her chest. "Yes. He's so cute. I love him so much. Thank you." She was trying really hard not to scream her happiness in his face, and she was honestly shocked she managed to do just that.

He snorted in amusement. "Not a problem. I found it a couple weeks back, thought it'd make a nice gift for helpin' me out."  
"helpin' you out?" she raised a brow.  
"I was... in a really bad spot when I found your radio channel. I guess I finally had something to look forward to with you and the vault."  
She nodded, not quite sure what he meant but acting as though she did anyway.  
"Make way for the departures!" a guard hollered.

Samantha took Misha by the hand and pulled him to the side.  
"Departures?" He questioned.  
"Some of the original vault inhabitants have decided to leave the vault."  
"What really?"  
"Yeah. It's sad but-" she stopped short, jaw going slack at the sight of the first departures.

"C-connie!" she stuttered awkwardly, scurrying over.  
Connie looked up at her, eyes reddened and puffy, her face stained with tears.  
Never before had she seen Connie look so sullen and depressed. The mere sight of it was like a sharp, boiling knife stabbing and twisting around in her chest.  
Connie tried to smile but it was weak and her lower lip kept shaking. "hey Sammy..." she began awkwardly. "uuuuh... surprise?"  
"Y-... You guys are leaving?" she questioned.  
Connie heaved a sigh, sounding more irritated than upset. "Yeah. My parents decided to just dump this whole thing on me."  
her mother scoffed, causing connie to whip her head back and glare.  
"But... but Eoin is two. Isn't... isn't that dangerous?"  
Misha spoke up from the back with a noticeable tone of indignation. "Not just dangerous, its irresponsible."  
"I don't need to be lectured by a newcomer." her mother snapped.  
"maybe you should. Because clearly you don't understand that going out into the wasteland with a two year old because of your STUPID FUCKING MID-LIFE CRISIS is a fucking stupid idea!"  
everyone stopped to stare. Something not lost on anyone in Connie's family. Save for Eoin that is.  
"CONSTANCE DIANE!" her mother snarled back in response.  
"Don't you Constance Diane me, you asshole! You're putting all of us in danger because of your shitty ass mid-life crisis dilemma. Eoin doesn't deserve. I don't deserve this. And neither does my dad."  
Seeing Connie so... furious, so full of rage... that was a rare sight indeed. And one she wished she didn't have to see.  
"It doesn't matter what you say. We're leaving and that's final." Her mother stated through gritted teeth.  
"Yeah, I fucking figured." Connie turned to Samantha, her expression softening as she drew her best friend in for a hug. "i'm gonna miss you sammy." she grumbled.  
Samantha wrapped her arms around her friend and lowered her head. "i'm gonna miss you too."  
"I wish I could bring you along."  
"I wish I could go with you. But-" But she couldn't. Samantha wasn't a real member of their family.  
Misha grunted from the back, then spoke up. "Look. If you're headin' to the Mojave, head to New Vegas as soon as you can. Its not the cleanest, but its safer than most other places and the Followers of the Apocalypse will treat you fair as long as you do."

Connie pulled away from Samantha, leaning to the side to flash Misha a smile. "Thanks for the advice. I'll be sure to remember that." she paused a moment, then continued. "Take care of Samantha for me."  
"She's in good hands." he replied, giving her a thumbs up.  
"Good because I'm her best friend. And i'll know if you hurt her. And if I find out you have, i'll come back to the vault just so I can punch you in the dick so hard, your testicles explode."  
Misha made a pained, inward groan and shuffled behind Samantha, waving her off. "Begone angry midget. Your family is leaving you."  
"Did you just-" she stopped short to look back and notice that her family had, in fact, already left the vault. She turned back to hiss. "You're lucky they need me. I'll be on high alert, kiddo. One slip up and i'll know." and with that, she turned on her heel and fled.  
Samantha waved goodbye until Connie was out of sight.  
Misha grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back so she wouldn't get trampled by the onslaught of people leaving.  
"i'm surprised people are leaving." Misha began.

Samantha rolled her shoulders in a shrug. "People don't wanna stay in the vaults forever. Its nice I guess." She could try and force herself to smile, but it felt wrong. Her closest, and probably only, friend had just left the vault.  
"Samantha?" Misha questioned.  
She wiped away her tears and looked back at him, forcing a smile in spite of herself. "Yeah?"  
he heaved a sigh, placing his hands on her shoulders. Probably to be comforting, but it was easy to tell he didn't know how to comfort her. "Just- I... I'm sorry."  
"Sorry? For what?"  
"Because you lost your friend."  
"Well she isn't dead. And it isn't your fault. Why are you apologizing?"  
"I'm trying to make you feel better. I don't know how."  
She laughed gently. "I'll give you points for trying. Plus I have a nice teddy bear to cuddle now, that helps." she hugged the new toy close.  
He paused a moment, then spoke again. "Tell me about your vault."  
she nodded slowly. "Whaddya wanna know?"  
"Tell me about how things work."  
"Well... there's about 8 floors that are solely used for living quarters. The floors below the living quarter floors are where most work, occasionally some will work in the floor above but very rarely."  
"Really now?"  
Another slow nod. "Floor 1, the floor where I live, is the administration, clinic, and security level. The clinic and most of the security and admin work on the floor below. Level 1 is, by far, the best furnished and well equipped. Level 8 is the least furnished and where the majority go for hard labor and such."  
"Its a caste system?"  
"I... I guess." she scratched the back of her head. "A lot of the people that come here don't have specific education in a field we have so they are used to help expand the vault."  
"So you give them the shittiest living quarters?" He sounded pissed off.  
Samantha frowned. "its not up to us. The King Overseer set the rules and we have to obey. I don't like how they treat them. But the last time someone spoke out against them, they mysteriously vanished that night and were never seen again."  
"So he's a dictator?" Misha crossed his arms.  
Samantha glanced around at the guards, then lowered her voice. "l-look, please don't talk about this. He's got ears everywhere. And I really like you. I'd hate to see you vanish on your first day."  
Misha hissed lowly. "I'd like to see him try and take me away."  
She grabbed his arm, staring up at him with desperate, pleading eyes. "Please don't say a word. I can't lose another friend."  
He stared down at her, then grunted and muttered. "fine. But only for you."  
She slowly exhaled a breath. "You eventually learn to just keep quiet about it."  
he shook his head and sighed, crossing his arms.  
She panicked a bit. "Uh... OH! Would you like to see my apartment?" She beamed him a grin.  
"Uh... sure?"  
"Wonderful, you'll have to leave your bag with the guards."  
"What, why?"  
"They'll have to go through it to confiscate all the weapons."  
"Maybe coming here was a mistake."  
she frowned. "Hey, if you want to keep them, sign up for vault security."  
"I'll get to keep my weapons?"  
"Yes of course. But you can't have them on you at all times."  
"... I think I can handle that."  
"wonderful, lets go." she grabbed his hand and began to walk, navigating skillfully through the crowd of people.  
It took a full minute of convincing once more, but he eventually relinquished his back pack to the guard with palpable hesitation before continuing down the long stairway.

"So... the King Overseer has ears everywhere?" He questioned.  
Samantha froze in her spot, glancing around the hallway before turning and whispering. "Not here." She sped-walked the rest of the way to her apartment and quickly shut the door behind him. "You can't just mention that out in the open."  
"What? Why not?"  
"it's the unspoken rule. Everyone knows, no one says a thing. Its safer this way."  
"Safer? You're kidding me, right?"  
she shook her head. "look, you only get one warning. Then its over. Please just... just don't."  
Misha grunted in response. "Fine whatever. Don't expect me to just sit and take it though, samantha."  
She frowned. "please just try. I know it'll go against your nature. But its safer this way."  
"People that give up happiness for security don't deserve either."  
"This isn't up for debate, Misha. It's just how things work."  
"Well I'll be makin' some changes then."  
"Misha please. I don't wanna see you get hurt."  
"i'm not worried. I've fought through hordes of deathclaws and ghouls just to get here. Some fuck in a fancy suit with guards doesn't scare me."  
"I know it doesn't. And that's what bothers me. I know you don't view this vault in a favorable light but... but we're alive. And that's all that matters, right?"  
"No... that's not how it fucking works, Samantha."  
Samantha felt dread and fear take over her body, tears welling up in her eyes. "Please. I'm begging you."  
Misha seemed a bit panicked at her crying. "alright alright. I'll keep it to myself. Please don't cry for the love of everything."  
she sucked in a breath, wiping away the coming tears and smiling awkwardly. "Thank you, Misha. You don't know how much this means to me." she hugged him tight.  
he wrapped his arms around her and sighed. "Guess i'll be keeping quiet for a while." he muttered awkwardly.


End file.
